


This Old House

by MoonlightIcarus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Living Together, M/M, Past Character Death, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightIcarus/pseuds/MoonlightIcarus
Summary: Crowley cleans up the house and he stumbles upon some sad old memories.
Relationships: Crowley/Bobby Singer
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	This Old House

**Author's Note:**

> Am I just a terrible writer, is that it?

Robert’s house was a certain kind of old. It fell between the derelict and condemned old you expected from abandoned farmhouses, and the wonderfully furnished and maintained homes that belonged to couple who had too much money to spend on frivolous things. The house was good. Robert certainly worked to maintain his house, but there was only so much that one overly exasperated hunter could do as he crept into the gold years of his life.

His attempt to remedy this was simply to worry about only the major structural details of the house and the rooms he regularly occupied, i.e. his bedroom, library, and kitchen. Sure, he went around and dusted off the furniture in the other rooms from time to time, but the water stains, and leaks from the ceiling didn’t get attended too until they became major issues. For years his life was lived in a cycle of sleep, work, possibly clean, eat, and repeat. Then the old oaf finally pulled his head from his arse and allowed me to help around.

At that time we had already been forming some sort of relationship for years, but he was hesitant to allow me to freely move throughout the place. All the common rooms, and even his bedroom were open to me, however the panic rooms and more secluded areas remained locked behind cumbersome and tedious barriers.

So one day out of the blue he removed all the devil traps, and extra salt lines so I could move around the house uninhibited, and with that newfound freedom I spent over a week cleaning up the place. Curtains were washed three times, after which they looked entity different hanging over the windows. The couches and chairs were steam cleaned, much to Robert’s annoyance, sighting the sound of the steamer as a distraction from his work. After five attempts at getting the deep grime cleaned off the carpet I caved and eventually settled on using some more, unconventional, hellish methods to have the floor sanitized.

I always preferred to clean up by hand. It brought with it a satisfaction at complete a job, or maybe it was just that same paralyzing childhood fear of what would happen if I didn’t prove my work, that my mother so thoroughly drove into my skull. But, this was a time when the human approach was lack luster and undeniable ineffiecnt so I had little choice in the matter. Oh, the sweet irony that Robert spend decades of his life warding off demons, yet that’s what was needed to keep his house clean and livable.

Slowly I got it all done. Room by room the house took on a shine of rejuvenation, but its rustic comforting feel wasn’t washed away along with the dirt. There were a few changes made though, the mattress in the master bedroom was tossed and replaced by a new, more arthritis friendly one, curtsy of a deal I'd finally redeemed. The old pots and pans were swapped for a brand-new nonstick set when I discovered that the grease stains would never come off. I was tempted to change out the water heater as well, but that was a decision I left up to Robert, and being himself, he mulled it over for days before accepting the idea. A whole host of little upgrades and here there, none of which had cost Robert a single dime.

Finally, there was only one room of the house left untouched. It was one that I had never entered and I’d never seen Robert enter it either. He just lived around it, passing by the door on the occasion he needed to get to the closet closest to it, but he never acknowledged it directly. Avoiding it like it could retain some form of spite towards him. There was something sorrowful about it, Robert hadn’t even been able to look directly at it, so he clearly had some deep emotional connection and/or baggage to what lay beyond it.

I had though of going in before, having a slight invasion of the secrets Robert left buried beyond the wooden door, but I honestly though he would stop me. Like the creaking of the hinges would stand out from the creaking all the other doors in the house produced, and upon hearing it Robert would bound up the stairs to slam it shut before I could peek inside.

The day when I finally opened the door, was one when Robert was outside in the garage doing actually legal work as he replaced the fuel line on a shabby old pick up truck that wasn’t even worth the effort anymore. The repair wouldn’t take long, but it would allow me enough time to observe what what inside the room.

Pushing against the door I had doubts, but I didn’t stop. Not, until the door was fully opened and the light from the hallway was spilling inside around me, castling a long shadow of my silhouette onto the musky tiled floor. I flicked the light switch, but the room remined lit only by the light of the hall, and the sun beams that slipped in through the small window set high upon the far wall.

Even without a proper light it could make out the finest details of the room. Firstly, that it was a bathroom, and secondly that it was in a state of disarray. The sink and vanity had small bars of half used soap resting on them, and they appeared to have merged with the counter top, after being left stagnant for so long. There was a hand towel crisply folded there was well, its soft floral pattern barely visibly through the dust that was collected on it. If someone were to pick it up then it would no doubt manage to retain his shape. Turing my head I found two bath towels of a matching pattern on the towel rack by the bath tub. 

That tub…it was quite a lot actually. It had to be ancient given its clawfoot design and clouded porcelain finish that would surely shine after a thorough polishing. It had no showerhead, only a rusted over faces that had corroded as it was left alone. It was massive, somewhere near double the size of a standard bathtub. Even as the rest of the house had been updated over the years with somewhat more modern appliances and amenities, this room had remained untouched, retaining the original nature of the building. 

The adjunct table had only a few bottles of shampoo, conditioner and other hygiene products. Then over the triolet on a high shelf sat a basket of feminine hygiene products, covered in old labels from brands that no longer existed. Robert hadn’t touched this room, because it didn’t belong to him, it belonged to his deceased wife, end he didn’t have the strength to do anything about it.

I was an intruder in this space. I encroached on something I had no right to disturb. I have felt Robert’s soul and all the wounds and scars that he carries with him, the most prominent coming not from any hunt or monster, but from the loss of his wife. Karen Singer's death had neary destroyed the man, ripped his heart asunder. I had only felt an echo of the pain and I still found it overwhelming, yet he had managed to live his life with it still weighing down on him like a heave load.

Thankfully Robert wasn’t John Winchester, and he didn’t ruin the lives of others just to go on a wild goose chase in search of revenge. Instead he allowed himself to grieve over his loss so that he could move past it. There was still residual pain left behind, but that is the hazard of loving someone as much as Robert loved Karen, you only set yourself up for more pain when it all comes apart.

So, I left the room and I closed the door tightly behind me, still feeling unease even after the lock had clicked shut. I would have to tell Robert what I had done, this was a part of him that he kept guarded for a reason, and I had violated that privacy. I would have to do it soon. I would have to do it today, before the guilt from it had time to grow and fester into fear.

….

I waited until dinner that night to tell him. This wasn’t something to be done in an offhanded comment and then be swept under the up. I wanted to set aside the time to discuss the lingering grief and my violation of it, because I care for Robert and not speaking frankly about things like this would be the fastest way to lose him. That would hurt him in a different way.

There we were, at the table, Robert sitting at the head of the table and I was in the chair just to his left. I let him finish his meal, preferring not to spoil his appetit with the news of my actions. Then after he cleaned off his plate and made to stand, I placed my hand on his arm and stopped him.

“Robert. I need to tell you something and I fear you won’t like it.” I couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but what I could see of his face showed genuine concern. How long would it remain that way before it turned to something else? Maybe anger of distrust? 

“What is it?”

God, that’s so different from how it used to be. Back before he always assumed it was something pertaining to the next oncoming apocalypse that always needed to be dealt with by the Winchester, or about the revolting of the denizens of hell. Now though, now he spoke with no expectations or predisposed ideas. I could as easily have moved the conversation towards resign hell hounds as the what type of flooring I wanted to redo the living room with.

“I did something, and I fear that you may hate me for it.”

“What is it?” he asked again.

“That room upstairs, across from the closet, the room you can never seem to look at directly. I-I went inside of it today while you were out doing that repair job. I could tell that no one has been inside of it for years, and I know that it belonged to Karen.” I thought I had just crossed one line too many. Saying her name was blasphemous, and wrong coming from me, the man who had filled part of the void that was left in her absence, even if could never do it fully.

“Okay.” It was just a whisper, and with it I forced myself to finally look Robert in the face. His expression was so…melancholy. A sadness had washed over him so suddenly that I would have been surprised were I not the one to cause it.

“I am sorry.” I wanted him to know that, I needed him to know that. No matter how much it sounded like an excuse I would repeat it until I was left horse, and absolutely sure sure that he understood the full weight of my words. “I know it is wrong to pry and dig up the past, but the way you look at that door, I had to know what was hiding beyond it, and now that I know the answer I can’t help but feel like I have made a grave mistake in doing so.”

His chair squeaked as it slid across the floor. I expected him to leave me there, and go somewhere to vent out his emotions on his own, but instead he leaned over and captured me in an awkward hug. The height difference from him standing and me sitting complicated things, however I still reached my arms around him as best I could, the slight shivers of his body, might as well have been the quaking of the ground beneath our feel with how much it spoke of Roberts emotional state.

“I’m sorry.” I said again, so softly that if his ear wasn’t directly next to my mouth, he wouldn’t have known it was said at all.

“You don’t need to say that. There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

Even if he wasn’t angry about my breach of his privacy at the very least I needed to make amends for getting him so emotionally distraught. “If I don’t need to apologize then why are you hugging me and crying?”

“Because I’m old, and human, and foolish.” He lowered himself down to his knees allowing me to wrap my arms more securely around his shoulders. His head was resting in my lap and his arms still clinging to my, holding me as close as he could manage. “I’m not mad. I couldn’t be since there’s nothing to be mad about. I’m just sad is all. Old memories, like that, I’m just never really ready to think about them. I cried and I grieved. I let it hurt and burn, and somehow I moved on, but there’s still that little bit that never stops to hurt.” He stopped again, attempting to steady his preaching, and choosing his words for what came next. “I don’t want to say I though about what we could have been, what life might have been like if Karen liven." His voice broken on her name and he needed to stop so he could breath again." "I dont want to say that, because that makes it sound like I loved her more than you, but I don’t. I love you both in different ways, and there’s a feel that comes with that. Like I’m betraying some part of her and her memory.”

Times like these I wish I could have met Karen Singer, and spoken to her about anything at all, but most about Robert. There were so many things I still wanted to know amount the man, but Karen had been lucky enough to make it to heaven, and that was distinctly a place I’m not allowed to go. Would she have known what to do to conform Robert, or would she have been just as lost as I was?

“I remember that day. The day she said she wanted separate bathrooms even though we slept in the same bed. She wanted her own space and I was happy to give it to her. I never went in there, sure I took a peak from time to time to make sure the place was clean, but nothing more than that.” Robert let out a long huff and continued, “Then when she died I didn’t have the heart to change it, all the other little pieces of her that were left around the house stayed mostly the same, but I never touched a single thing inside of that room. It was hers. I-I went in there though, I went inside and just let myself cry, surrounded by the biggest remnant of her life.” Robert’s voice was wavering with the emotions that flooded it and there were a few tears falling down his face.

“I’m sorry, Love.” He’d not even stepped inside of the room for the longest time, yet I thought I had the right to just invite myself it. It was deplorable behavior.

Robert looked up, and I broke me seeing him like that, on his knees letting his emotions out in a way hunter normally refused to do. “Stop apologizing, I should clean it up anyway, holding onto it won’t help me none, and I’d guess its even a heath risk from being untouched for so long.”

“Do you want me to clean it Robert, or would you rather do it?”

“Please help me with it, if I do it by myself I’ll never get anything done in there.”

“We can start it as soon as your ready. Get it all nice and clean, just like the rest of the house. Polish everything till it shines.”

“We can start tomorrow, don’t want it to leave it like that for any longer, but I’m not up for any cleaning tonight.”

“Would you like to go to bed now, love?”

“Yeah, I-I think that’s a good idea.”

I helped get Robert onto his feet and we leaned on one another as we made the ascent up the stairs into the bedroom. The dishes were left on the table to be dealt with tomorrow, because tonight wasn’t the time for it.

We held each other close under the covers, skin again skin proving a desperately needed physical comfort for the both of us. I was so hesitant to fall asleep, not wanting to leave him alone in the dark with his thoughts, but as he breathing calmed and came to a maintain a slow steady rhythm I let myself slip under as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments if you liked what you read.


End file.
